


Death and the Maiden

by PlayingTheGameOfThrones



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hades and Persephone, catelyn is demeter, sansa is persephone, tyrion is hades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 19:58:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14268432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingTheGameOfThrones/pseuds/PlayingTheGameOfThrones
Summary: AU wherein Sansa is Persephone and Tyrion is Hades.





	Death and the Maiden

When Sansa Stark was a girl, all she knew was spring. All anyone alive knew was spring.

  
But when the time comes for her to marry, the days begin to grow shorter. “Autumn is here,” her mother says, and gathers her daughter’s hands in her own. “Soon a husband will come to claim you. Be careful in your choosing.”

  
Sansa stands on the parapet day after day after that first warning of her mother’s. She knows her place as the goddess of spring; how could it be that spring was ending? Her mother, Lady Catelyn, is the goddess of the harvest, but the harvest was ending, the golden wheat no longer shooting up from the ground, the nights chillier than Sansa has ever felt before. Does marriage mean an end to spring for good?

  
“Don’t be afraid,” a voice sounds behind her, and Sansa whirls on her heel to find a very short man wrapped in furs from head to toe standing in the shadows on the parapet behind her. One green eye and one black eye glimmers out at her from beneath a mop of golden curls. A hand emerges from between his fur, revealing a plump, bright purple pomegranate in his palm.

  
“Who are you?” Sansa asks, trying not to show her fear. Has a husband at last come to claim her?

  
“My name is Tyrion, sweet maiden,” he replies. “God of Hades.”

  
“Hades?” Sansa has heard tell of the land of the dead: always cold, always dark, a land of sorrow. No wonder he’s so bundled up.

  
Tyrion smiles. “I can see you’ve heard tell of it.”

  
“Awful things, my lord. It sounds like no place for a goddess of spring.”

  
Tyrion’s green eye glitters as if with mischief, the black hidden in shifting shadow. “It is not so bad, my lady. A place where you can be free.”

  
_Free_? Sansa shifts from foot to foot, suddenly tempted.

  
“No flowers grow there,” Tyrion warns her even as he holds out the pomegranate to her. “Nothing grows there, truth be told, but my own loneliness with each passing year. But though you will live in the land of the dead, you will rule as a queen by my side. As an equal.”

  
Sansa thinks about her mother, and the castle they share where wild flowers grow in huge heaps all spring long. She thinks of how trapped she feels in those walls, how heavy the scent of petals can be, like a chain around her neck. She thinks how, even if flowers grow and it is always golden spring, she is never free on the earth. How the hidden thorns of the flowers would tear her dresses and draw blood from her skin should she ever attempt escape.

  
She takes the pomegranate from the god of death, and eats the seeds.

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue this, but for now it is a one-shot. I hope you enjoy this AU as much as I do!


End file.
